Dead Men Rising
by 221Bentley
Summary: We all know the story. The story of Valkyrie Cain, Skulduggery Pleasant and Tanith Low. We know about the Faceless Ones, the Remnants and the Death Bringer. What we don't know is the story of The War. Here is what really happened. A story of tragedy and triumph and the remarkable group known as The Dead Men, who changed the course of history for Sorcerers and Man-kind, forever


**This fanfiction is dedicated to my best friend, Becky. (Some of you reading may know here from the whole "Becky says Hi" Fiasco that continues to haunt Derek to this day.)**

**She, Olivia, Georgina and Myself all share a love for the Dead Men, and I can only hope I do their story justice. I hope you enjoy it too.**

**Much love,**

**Ashley**

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Prologue

A solitary set of hoof beats rolled like thunder across the more. The shadow of a horse ghosted through the mist. Sweat and rain clung to its coat, its rider leaning down low over its neck, urging it on even faster. Panting as it struggled to keep pace through the mud; the stallion flung its legs out even farther, belly almost touching the grass that flew beneath him. The ground rose abruptly before him and he struggled to leap up the sharp embankment. Suddenly his hooves found traction on a familiar trail and picked up a faster pace on the even surface toward the place he and his rider called home. They rounded a bend in the trail and the stallion felt his rider grow heavy upon his back at the sight of an orange glow through the fog ahead. The bit in his mouth jerked painfully and the exhausted horse came to a sliding stop.

Skulduggery Pleasant leapt down from the saddle and ran to the burning remains of his home. He splayed his fingers and snapped his palm against the air, blasting the half burned door off its hinges.

"MAEVE!" He called desperately. "CIARA!" His lungs filled with smoke from the smoldering furniture. He covered his mouth and nose with his shirt and fought to see clearly through the smoke induced tears welling up in his bright blue eyes. There. Carved into a support beam, two letters; N. S.

A black, cold fear twisted through his gut and engulfed his heart. He ran back out into the drizzling rain and leapt into the saddle. Clamping his heels against his horse's ribs, they dashed off into the night, straight toward enemy territory.

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"Touch her and I'll do worse than kill you, you snake!" Maeve Hart snarled. Serpine allowed his hand to fall back to his side and smirked. She was feisty, and damn beautiful, despite her torn clothes and delicate face half covered in blood from the gash on her temple. He could see why Skulduggery loved her.

Love.

He scoffed internally. Love would be his downfall and Nefarian Serpine was looking forward to seeing Pleasant suffer. The idea of all the pain he was about to cause made him shiver in excitement. "Don't worry, my _dear_," he taunted "I have no plans of hurting your precious angel… yet." He moved to stand behind the mother and child who were both bound in chains to chairs nailed into the floor. Serpine was very aware that, despite her immense beauty and seemingly innocent manner, Maeve was a fighter and he wouldn't be surprised if mother and father had taught little Ciara tricks of the trade. Violence ran in both the Pleasant and Hart bloodlines.

The girl was watching him out of the corner of her eye, she was hiding her fear well, but he could still taste it in the air. She was terrified. He squatted down next to her and Maeve tensed in her seat, the chains snapping taught. Ignoring her mother, he spoke to Ciara in a dangerous whisper.

"You miss your daddy don't you, Ciara, dearest? He's always been there save you from the monsters lurking beneath your bed at night and all of the unknown that hides in the shadows outside your window as the sun fell in the sky. Problem is darling, this is war, and I don't think that anything he does will save you now." He frowned slightly and shook his head slowly, mocking her. Her façade began to crumble and anger began to mingle with terror, the tears fell down her face.

"Wrong, Nefarian." Skulduggery's velvet voice filled the chamber Nefarian stood to face the figure of his nemesis standing in the doorway. "Daddy!"Ciara called. Maeve snapped her head up to look at her husband. Her stomach twisted in nauseated fear and hope.

"Ah, Skulduggery! I see you found my note. You certainly got here faster than I anticipated. Your horse still alive?" Serpine moved to stand behind Maeve again.

"I had motive. Now here I am. Let them go and I will give you whatever it is you want. We can settle this like gentlemen and no one has to get hurt."

Nefarian pretended to ponder for a moment. "We could. But I had something much more… engaging in mind. Would you like to know what it is?"

"Nefarian, you don't want this, let them go. Now." There was a frantic edge to his usually calm voice, the pupils of his eyes dilated and still he didn't move, knowing that even a step could bring harm to his family. He was right, Serpine was ready for bloodshed and he was finding I harder and harder to repress himself.

"Hmm…. Okay." He began to step away from Maeve and her daughter, planting false hope in his enemy's heart, before pulling a dagger from his pocket in one swift motion and sliding it deep across Maeve's throat. The chamber filled with screams and rage and blood. Serpine felt a rush of triumph as he watched Skulduggery lose all control of his emotions and pure, raw hatred consume him. Skulduggery lunged for the closest available weapon he could lay his hands on and ran towards Nefarian. Serpine ripped the glove from his red right hand and grabbed Ciara by her neck. Her screams reached unbelievable heights as she went from mourning the violent loss of her mother to being consumed by pure pain. Serpine felt her windpipe give out before she collapsed lifelessly. He looked up to see Skulduggery bearing down on him, screaming, holding the poisoned dagger above his head, ready to strike. His raging screams faltered as the poison in the barbed handle began to take its toll on him. Skulduggery's arm went limp, the dagger flying from his grip as the paralysis consumed his body and his legs gave out from under him. He fell at the feet of his wife's body, her blood pooling around the both of them. Red, red everywhere…

Nefarian stepped into his fading line of sight.

"There! I let them go. After all, death in itself is a release, and not one that will come peacefully to you anytime soon. I promise."

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**Next chapter due within a week or two. (Sorry lovelies, School first, fun second :/) Reviews are appreciated. **


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